Beowulf/Bio
Beowulf is the protagonist of the Old English poem of the same name. He was a monster-killing hero and king, famed for his impossible strength. Beowulf's father killed a member of a prominent family in Geatland, Beowulf's homeland; his family was unable to pay the weregild and would've been banished if Hrothgar, a Danish king, had not generously paid the weregild instead. Beowulf, after hearing of a monster, Grendel, that was terrorizing Hrothgar's land, set off for Denmark in order to kill the monster and repay his debt to the king. Waiting for Grendel to arrive at the king's mead hall, Beowulf pretended to sleep. When the beast arrived, Beowulf ambushed him, using only his brute strength to wrestle with Grendel. After a long struggle, Beowulf tore off the beast's arm. The creature fled to his home in the swamp, where he died from his wound. Grendel's mother, seeking revenge for the death of her son, attacked the hall, killing many of Hrothgar's men. Beowulf immediately sought to kill her as well, and swam into her underwater lair. Finding his weapons ineffective against the she-beast, Beowulf discovered a massive giant-forged sword in the cave, which he used to decapitate her. Beowulf would eventually return to his homeland, and become king. He ruled wisely for many years, before he would finally die from his wounds after a battle with a dragon that threatened his kingdom. __TOC__ Rematch vs. King Arthur (by Laquearius) "Here we are, Sir Knights... Geatland. Another kingdom for to be claimed for Britain!" The bow of Pridwen slid into the soft sand of the Geatish shore. They had made landfall at one of the few beaches on the rocky coastline, and had needed to sail for several hours to find it, lest their ship be wrecked about the jagged stones. Arthur gazed off into the horizon: flat grasslands made up much of the terrain that lay before him, which only a few scattered trees and hills. 'Good, good...' thought Arthur. 'It is a perfect pathway for my army, once the other ships arrive.' Coastal villages in Britain had been harassed by Geatish raids for some time now, and the Round Table had come to the conclusion that not only must the raids stop, but Geatland must be made to swear fealty to Arthur, just as its neighbors had. Arthur and forty knights had arrived to scout the area and clear out any immediate local resistance, opening the path for the mighty army of Camelot. A short distance away, unbeknownst to the Britons, Arthur's men where being watched. A lone Geatish scout had spotted the arriving ship from a hilltop and watched as the knights disembarked. Hesitating for only a moment, the scout dashed down the hillside and off to the city, the only thought on his mind being the need to inform the king. Arthur and his men wasted no time setting up a camp. Tents where erected, wells were dug, and fires were lit. Arthur had issued a command that all men were required to be in full armor at all times, ready to fight at a moment's notice. If any Geats were to discover the encampment, they needed be dealt with immediately. The risk of allowing any to escape and inform the Geats of their arrival before Bedivere and the army could reach them was far too great. Beowulf pondered over the information his scout had just delivered to him. "They were Britons, sir, I'm sure of it. The ship, their armor... the weapons. It is only a small force now, but more will certainly follow! Sir, they mean no less than war!" The old king stroked his bear as he considered his options. Then he spoke. "As king, it is my duty to defend my people from any and all outside threats. We will end this matter quickly." He turned to a heavily armored soldier at his side. "Marshal, mobilize the guard. We will snuff out this attack before it can began." "My king!" shrieked Kay as he burst into Arthur's tent. "The Geats! They're here!" "Impossible!" "I speak truth, my lord. I spotted them mustering on a hilltop, they are naught more than a hour's march away!" "Then we waste no time! Raise the alarm, and ready the knights for battle!" Beowulf calmly looked down on the Briton camp. To have the audacity to come to foreign lands with such a small force, and to make no attempt to flee when discovered... There was something amiss here. These men must not be any common warriors. The voice of the Geatish marshal broke the king's contemplative silence. "Inspections are completed, me liege. Our men are in fit fighting condition." Beowulf nodded, acknowledging the news. Turning his horse back to his army, he drew his faithful sword, Hrunting, and struck it against the rim of his shield. The clattering noise ended the chattering of the Geats and drew their attention to their king. "Men of Geatland! Brothers, comrades in arms, warriors! These Britons have had the gall to intrude in our kingdom, the sacred lands of our forefathers! Today, they meet the same fate that awaits all who threaten our home and our families! With me!" And with that, Beowulf gave a mighty cry, which was answered with the cheering of dozens of soldiers, all calling for the blood of the invaders. Arthur and the knights were silent as the sound of thundering hooves filled the air. An army of Geats, numbering at least at one hundred, all on horseback, made their way over hill after hill. But even at this terrifying sight, the Briton king retained his composure. Calmly, but forcefully, he issued an order to the bow-wielding knight at his side. "Tristan! Take out their lancers, as many as you can!" "With pleasure, my lord," replied Tristan, and he let his arrows fly. The magical bow he wielded sent the his arrows spiraling into the throats of horses and men alike, sending many of them both crashing to the ground. "Steady, my knights, steady!" The Geatish cavalry reached Arthur's line. The Britons, each a magnificent warrior, seemed to dance through the spears and swords of the Geatish horsemen, effortlessly dodging strikes and quickly responding with their own. Beowulf watched in horror as dozens of his men were cut down by the knights in an instance. Pulling his horse to a halt, Beowulf knocked an arrow on his longbow and fired directly at Sir Kay. The arrow found its mark in the form of Kay's back. Leaping off of his horse, sword and shield in hand, Beowulf forced his way through the crowds of soldiers to the wounded Kay, who was continuing to strike down Geats even in his state. Beowulf smashed his shield against the back of the knight's head, and an ear-splitting crack was heard. Kay's mangled body fall face-first to the earth. Seeing his brother in arms be so cruelly struck down, Sir Gareth pulled his sword out of the body of a recently slain Geat and charged at Beowulf. The king easily deflected Gareth's strike and replied with a swing of Hrunting, which tore open Gareth's throat. Arthur had been on his way to aid Kay when he saw Beowulf arrive. In only a matter of seconds, he had watched two of his dearest friends cut down by the unrelenting assault of the Geatish king. With a great fury inside of him, though tempered with focus, the British king steered his horse through the battlefield, his spear firmly in his grasp and his sights set on Beowulf's destruction. "Beowulf!" shouted Arthur. "Your fight is with me!" Beowulf heard the king's voice, and looked up to see the King of the Britons in all his glory. He rode atop a white horse, wielding a long spear in one hand and a shield in the other. Unlike his knights, he wore an open-faced helmet, which was adorned with a golden carving of a dragon. Even in the cloudy weather, light seemed to reflect off his armor, surrounding him with a bright aura. Beowulf responded to the king's challenge by raising his shield and charging straight for him. Arthur's spear glanced off the thick iron shield, and Beowulf thrust his sword forward, stopping Arthur's horse in its tracks. He then gave a mighty shove, knocking the dead horse over and sending Arthur tumbling to the ground. Arthur quickly recovered, and rolled out of the way of Beowulf's next strike, which implanted itself in the earth. Snatching up his spear, Arthur readied himself for another exchange. Arthur moved first. He rammed against Beowulf's shield with his own, pressing with all his might. However, Beowulf's strength was far too much for Arthur, who has forced back and knocked to the ground. Taking this opportunity, he raised his spear and thrust it forward, the tip diving under his opponent's shield and embedding itself in Beowulf's left calf. Beowulf swung his shield down, breaking the spear in two, and stepped back to remove the spearhead. His weapon destroyed, Arthur drew a silver dagger from a sheath on his belt, and then removed his helmet. In its place, he pulled his hood over his head. When Beowulf looked up, Arthur was nowhere to be seen. "Where are you, Briton!?" shouted Beowulf. "What kind of king flees and hides from a challenge of his own issue?!" "A clever one..." whispered Arthur, as he hurled his dagger. Carnwennan sailed through the air and pierced Beowulf's left shoulder, causing him to drop his shield in pain. He pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, and then tossed Hrunting aside. Instead, he drew the massive sword that he carried on his back. "All out of tricks, coward? Face me!" he roared. "Very well, barbarian!" Beowulf spun around to see Arthur, who had removed his hood. He had his shield in his left hand, and his right was resting on the pommel of the sword at his side. Beowulf gave a thunderous shout, and sprinted at his foe, raising his mighty sword above his head. Arthur took a defensive stance. He tightened his grip on Excalibur's hilt. Beowulf began to swing his blade, his stroke aimed at Arthur's neck. Arthur drew his sword, and the resulting burst of light flooded Beowulf's eyes with pure white. Distracted by his blindness, and the burning pain that was beginning to swell in his calf, Beowulf had his swing easily parried by Arthur. Roaring with anger, Beowulf swung his sword wildly, hoping that he would land a blow, but it was to no avail. Arthur easily dodged and parried the maddened Geat's erratic strikes, before he saw an opening wide enough for him to deliver a strike of his own. He swung Excalibur once, and Beowulf's head was separated from his shoulders. Taking Beowulf's head by the hair, Arthur raised it into the air and gave a rallying cry. Soon, every soldier on the battlefield saw the head of the King of the Geats held aloft by the King of the Britons. "Now, Knights of Arthur!" shouted Sir Tristan. "To the king!" Arthur's men, filled with courage from their king's victory, fought their way into a formation, and quickly cut down the remaining Geats. One horseman managed to flee the battlefield, but he did not escape Tristan's arrows. The battle over, and Kay and Gareth given proper burials, Arthur set about gathering his scattered equipment. As he cleaned the blood off of Carnwennan's blade, he looked out over the shore and into the sea, where a row of familiar ships could be seen coming through the fog. Winner: King Arthur Expert's Opinion Beowulf has much greater strength and endurance than Arthur, and he could mostly match Arthur in weaponry. However, he relies too much on his strength in combat, something an experienced, intelligent, and well-armed opponent such as Arthur will be able to exploit. Arthur also has the benefit of better defense and magical effects on much of his equipment. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Rematch Information The original battle was declared to be invalid due to its use of incorrect and nonexistent weapons, and nonsensical votes. Battle vs. Aragorn (by Urbancommando77) Beowulf: Aragorn: Beowulf was walking through a forest with some of his men. He saw Aragorn and his men pulled their longbows out. They fired at them. Aragorn saw the arrows coming towards them. He warned his men and they raised their shields. Aragorn pulled out his ranger bow and fired an arrow into the chest of one of Beowulf's men. He fell down. The soldier then died. Aragorn pulled Andruil out and his men drew their Gondor blades. The soldiers charged toward eachother. One of Beowulfs men pulled a broad sword out and tried hitting one of the Gondor warriors, but missed. The soldier then tried stabbing the warrior, but Beowulf's warrior blocked quickly. He stabbed the soldier in the neck. Aragorn fired a fire arrow into the shield of Beowulf. He pulled Andruil out and charged into battle. One of Beowulf's mencharged towards one of the Gondor soldiers and cut his stomach open. Aragorn tried to kill the warrior, but missed his strike. Aragorn stabbed the warrior in the leg. The warrior quickly counter with a slash, but Aragorn stabbed his blade into the warriors chest. Aragorn was quickly attacked by the other two warriors. He blocked one hit from one of the soldiers, but the other slashed through aragorns leg. He fell to his knees, but knocked one of the warriors down. He rose to his feet and attacked the other warrior. The warrior blocked the heavy blow. He dropped the shield in pain, his arm was broken. Aragorn took this time to stab him and then cut through the other one's head. Beowulf ran towards Aragorn's last men and stabbed both of them quickly. Aragorn charged at Beowulf. Beowulf was about to be stabbed, but Aragorn cut his hand off. Aragorn groaned, and pulled his dagger out. Beowulf dropped Nægling and punched Aragorn in the face, knocking down. Aragorn struggled to get up, but did. Beowulf grabbed Aragorn by the neck and began choking him to death, but Aragorn stabbed him in the shin with the dagger. Beowulf fell but punched Aragorn in the chest. Aragorn fell and coughed up some blood. Beowulf grabbed Aragorns dagger and shoved it into Aragorn's mouth with all his power. Beowulf roared in victory and grabbed Nægling and took Andruil as a trophy. Expert's Opinion Beowulf's greater strength and superior weaponry contributed to his victory. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Battle vs. Achilles (by El Alamein) Sing, O Muses, of the wrath of Achilles… I''' Indomitable he woke, and fresh in rage, Achilles in his prime. The walls of Troy were wan and dry, and death echoed from within. Apollo’s glint shone from his noble head and glimmered in his eye, His heavy step all but shook the earth His grip all but stilled the wind And his growl but calmed the sea. Achilles’ gaze swept the barren land, and glared through the dusty waves That rolled and parched the throats of men who languished from within. “Onward, men!” the warlord roared, his blade held high in hand. “Slay these Trojan dogs and wipe their very presence from the land!” His Myrmidons were vicious, and eager to the teeth, armed up and down from head to toe With blade and spear and axe and bow. The very land on which Troy stood quivered at his approach And the shouts of death intensified As the Achaeans grew ever near. The tall proud gates swung open, resistance stumbled out, But the Myrmidons held firm. “Leave no foolish mortal standing!” His face was washed in red, With blood and bone and guts and skin hanging from his sword. His heart was black with anger, his eyes flashed scorching flame, And he turned back Trojan soldiers who had not fallen to his blows. Achilles, born of war, let weapon slip and fall from hand, and With fist and knee brought punishment to the foes still within his grasp. Tangible panic swept the ranks of the Trojans still in march Who turned and fled and left their slain Crumbled in the dust. “I am the beast of battle! No man has bested me yet! So come and bring your finest man to truly test my skill!” Even as the blood of others dripped from the champion’s chin, He knew not that the foe he bade approached from the North. '''II The son of Ecgþeow, the king’s own man, Beowulf, he was, strength ripe in arm, And alert and heightened of mind. The devilspawn of the Danes was dead, the fiend, the horror, Grendel, and his mother lay rotting too. Hrunting high in hand, through the misty morn, The warrior-prince strode bravely forward in search of his ruthless adversary. The bane of man they said he was, a thousand men killed at his foot, the bones Piling high in an altar of war. His name was spoken in whispers, the sound brought fear to man, yet Beowulf roared to the sky “Achilles! The great! Your hour is near! Sharpen your weapon, but tremble in dread! For your equal has come!” His calm, cool stride matched not his ire Or the quiver in his lip as his nostrils flared and he silently steeled his nerve. The back-bent boughs of the wispy trees swayed slowly in the wind But that was all to be heard save for Beowulf’s step in the boggy marsh. Guided by God in mind and heart He endured no qualms that his righteous journey was doomed to peril, That it would be him to fall. The ring-mail held through the dense, low shrubs where brambles skulked within And his tough leather pants kept right at bay the gnats and flies That sought to dine upon his flesh. Well-armed and -armored the valiant warrior stood, A proud and noble disposition hanging on his face But deep within his mind ran fast to prepare himself for what lay ahead. So quietly, and to himself, Beowulf made his final heartfelt prayer: “Oh Lord, keep my mind firm and my arm stiff as I seek to end the war in South, For there is much suffering there.” III The road to Troy was cracked, torn dust Once paved, now derelict. Yet Beowulf treaded with watchful eyes for the man he hunted, Ready for any form of attack. The morning sun shone with a bright orange glaze, and sparkled in the air Over the warrior’s head as he squinted through the rolling waves of heat. “Oh, Achilles, you god of war! Cause of a thousand deaths! Your butchery stops here and now! Step out and face me, hand-to-hand! Test your muscle, might, and speed!” Achilles sat in the dirt but looked with rapid rage At the challenge unmistakably roared. So he dove to his chariot and gripped the reins with an iron determination in hand. “You Myrmidons! Beasts of battle! Fight strongly for your champion! For when I return, I will have satisfied my yearn to prove myself unbeatable!” A thousand cheers bid him goodbye, the vicious sacker of Troy, And the chariot bounded up and down on the broken path below. “Mysterious rival! I have heard your call! Your death is on the way! So quick, prepare, lest I arrive, with sword in hand, and catch you unaware!” The Greek’s reply hit no deaf ears, and Beowulf, courage in heart, Made fast his run towards the source of sound from whence Achilles’ boast came. An arrow nocked to his bowstring quivered as he peered into the sun. The rumbling chariot stopped as its rider spotted foe And hefted spear up high in hand. The arrow flew true through the air but fell far of its mark. With a hate-fueled thrust burning in anger, The spearhead plunged into Beowulf’s thigh. Raw, vicious pain surged through his mind and bit into his leg But Beowulf snapped the shaft in half With a downward strike from his palm. The curse of Troy stood stone in shock, for his spear was bested by none, And Hrunting slashed across his jaw and drew the champion’s blood. Achilles’ teeth shone white with fury, arm swinging shield round To slam edge-first into Beowulf, throwing him to the dirt. His arm curled up and twitched in pain But Beowulf righted himself and resumed the attack. Blade clashed on shield, striking sparks, and shaking the ground below. Achilles pushed for every inch but his mortal foe held firm And rained hard blows that rang the bronze but failed to punch straight through. In a burst of furious strength, Achilles beat Beowulf down And leaped upon him, shortsword drawn, slashing at his throat. The wound was grave, blood bubbled deep, but Beowulf choked through And grabbed Achilles’ feathered helm and crashed it against his fist. Ears ringing hard, the Greek fell back and the Dane stumbled to his feet Dragging his foe as he stumbled again, claws dug into his shoulders. Achilles roared in pain as Beowulf raked his nails through his flesh But he brought his knuckles to the warrior’s nose And his foot up to his chest. “What a testament to my glory and strength! That I’ll have beaten a man like you!” “You boast too soon, Son of Peleus! This battle’s mine to win! I’ll take you head and hold it high! You’ll pay yet for your sins!” So Beowulf wiped blood from his mouth and threw sword to the ground. Achilles, laughing, mocked his foe but followed suit. “Hand to hand? You daring fool! But that’s my gift of war!” He grappled high to meet his foe’s hands, but the smirk melted from his face. His rage dissipated in an instant His strength was outmatched. Beowulf roared and pushed down hard, Achilles’ arms cracked and bent. The Greek stumbled back, hit the ground, his elbows worn, and broke. “I am God-driven vengeance! And you’ll pay for all, here and now!” Hrunting flashed, but Achilles was strong, and his armor snapped the blade. The iron shattered, piece by piece, but shards blanketed the broken man, His face flecked with scarlet, blinded and crippled, Plagued with all-consuming pain. Beowulf’s arms clutched Achilles’ neck and squeezed firm and full of grit And with a snap and an angry shove He had vanquished the Trojan Menace. “You see? All men must pay for time that they have stolen from the weak! This corpse is now an empty shell! The legend is no more!” Expert's Opinion Beowulf emerged the victor in this battle largely thanks to his immensely greater strength. While Achilles may have had more experience fighting other human foes in the Trojan War, Beowulf was far more prepared for superhuman combat thanks to his struggles with Grendel and his mother. Achilles' battle-fueled rage did temporarily boost his strength, but his arrogance and poor tactical skills betrayed him, allowing Beowulf's raw muscle to gain the upper hand, giving him the win. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Battle vs. Conan the Barbarian (by MilenHD) It was a quiet evening in the forest of Gaetland, Beowulf had killed a bear with his bow and was now sitting near the entrance of the bear's cave, resting after the long hunt. Not far away, Conan was on his way, making fortune and forging a name for himself. As Beowulf was resting and listening to the sounds of the birds in the forest, and after few seconds he heard a loud grunting. On the other side Conan saw that a troll was coming out of the forest. Conan not wasting time prepared his arrows, litting the cloth around them with his torch, meanwhile Beowulf saw the troll and raised his Hrunting. In the next few seconds Conan realeased his arrow to set the troll's hide on fire, but in the last second Beowulf stabbed the monster in the chest and killed it before Conan, instead the ground was lit on fire and Beowulf turned to face Conan, and in that moment Beowulf thought that the Cimmerian was attacking him. Beowulf immidietly sheated his hrunting and was ready to shoot at Conan with his longbow. Conan gave his war cry and fired another fiery arrow, but as he fired it, Beowulf dodged it aside. After he retaliated with his longbow, Conan blocked the arrow with his shield and passing through the flames Conan bashed Beowulf with his shield making him lose his longbow. Beowulf without any time picked his giant iron shield and pulled Hrunting again and retaliated with a slash, doing nothing to Conan's armor, Conan returned the blow with his double headed battle axe, doing a one handed smash attack on Beowulf's shield, but only knocking the Gaetish king on the ground. As Beowulf got up and aimed to slash Conan's neck, the barbarian raised his shield and Hrunting, broke in half. Shocked, but still going Beowulf grabbed his Naegling and slashed at Conan doing absolutly nothing, because of the huge axe not allowing him to come in reach, but after Conan missed a attack with his axe, thus allowing Beowulf to cut the handle in two, only for Conan to pull his Atlantean sword and began dueling with Beowulf and after surviving few clashes, Beowulf tried cutting Conan through his chestplate, but his Naegling did nothing and as he tried to parry an incoming attack from Conan, his Naegling broke from the blow of the Atlatean sword. Then Beowulf decided to get his Sword of the Giant, as he rushed through the fire to get to the cave, where he was resting with it and as he grabbed it and with anger he spoke to Conan: "And you though you had a giant weapon?" and swung his giant sword with all his strength, denting the shield of Conan, forcing him to throw it away. But Conan pulled his morningstar and duel wielded his sword and flail. As both warriors gave their war cries and began dueling and after a hit from the flail in Beowulf's stomach, the Gaet felt down on his knees and Conan then decapitated him. After Beowulf was slain, Conan grabbed his Sword of the Giant and said: "You were a worthy opponent, I'll take your blade in honor for you." and walked away. Expert's Opinion Conan's superior experiance, better weapons and armor. Yes, Beowulf is stronger but he loses in everything. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Category:Bios